Late evening; it's about midnight. Elle's not sleepy; the long sleep from the tranqs the other day has her sleep schedule a bit wonky. Ali's nowhere to be seen, and the electroblonde is curled up on the couch, watching the television.

In her own room, reading some old texts from her college years to bone up on a thing or three related to the McAlister criminal case still pending, Jane approaches time for sleeping. She sets the book aside on her bed, still open, and trains eyes on the door. It isn't like her to leave at such a critical point, with Ali in possible danger of Company confinement; that risk of being bagged and tagged or worse runs through her head. One hand lifts and settles at the back of her neck, rubbing the marks absently, as she also recalls the conversation with that guy named Dorian. She'd believed progress was happening, if Ali were left a piece of solitude she might begin to get the handle. Perhaps the pressure was hampering things. It's an odd sort of day, things fugue together. She doesn't clearly recall much about the hours between returning home and now. Maybe she just opts not to think about it, it brings back memories of her own cold turkey experience too fully. In any case, she believes a corner was turned and the danger eased.

Elle is unaware of Jane's situation, besides "in her room"; she's been there a while. And Elle's reluctant to intrude this late; if Jane's awake, she can probably hear the sound of her activity, she rationalizes. The blonde channel-flips as she watches the screen, boredly.

Some minutes later the door opens and bare feet pad out into the hall. She stops, hearing the faint sounds from the main room and heads in that direction, her head appearing in the entrance a matter of seconds later. "Hey," Jane offers softly, asking "Insomnia?" A few more steps are taken, bringing her the rest of the way in.
Elle smiles. "Nah. Sleep schedule off. Yourself?" She scoots over to make room for Jane on the couch.

"I'm crashing soon, I think," she replies, padding over and taking that seat. The other chairs sit empty, with the pair seated on the peach colored sofa. One hand runs through her hair slowly, the other rests in her lap. "You were out for most of an entire day, rhinotackler," Jane remarks with a slight chuckle. "May take you a while to get sorted out, sleepwise."

Elle smiles. "Yeah, well. There are worse things than needing an extra bit of sleep. So how are you and Jaden doing?"

Her eyes close for a moment, and her head shakes, but a smile appears. "He's crazy. Things aren't dull with him, and that's an understatement sometimes." Jane pauses, a quiet groan escaping, as she asks "Remember me talking about the guy who skydived into the zoo and got stuck in a tree, I was helping him and didn't notice anything else until after?"

Elle nods by way of reply. "Yeah. I remember. And you still need to bring him by so I can meet him."

"He was the skydiver," Jane states, shaking her head again. "If he'd told me what his plan was, I might've told him that wouldn't be the best idea. Paths with people, trees to get stuck in. Lions and gorillas to land on. He's been here, you met him before, but yeah, we do need to have him around again soon." And a laugh follows. "There he was, stuck hanging from his parachute in a tree, with no pants."

The blonde chuckles. "Sounds a little…reckless for you." A smile quirks her lips. "Ms. Harvard Law."

Maybe she thinks the two met. She could be wrong. No one's memory is perfect, in any case. Jane muses for a moment, a soft smile to her features. "He just likes to have fun, and doesn't think so much. Me, sometimes I think too much, so we fit. I fail to stay angry with him. I bring the craziness up, and his way of thinking just deflates it all. He'll say something like life's too short for so much worry, and…" It's then she realizes something and shows an expression of mock displeasure. "Harvard? Harvard? Oh, please. It was Yale. And lawyers are doctors. I've not been Miss anything since graduation." Good natured laughter follows.

Elle laughs. "Yeah, yeah. Those of us who are sitting around with our GED fail to recognize all these distinctions. Some upper-crusty snooty school." She reaches out and pokes Jane in the arm, teasingly, and lets out a static *pop* as she does. No stronger than one would get from scuffing feet over the carpet.

Her arm pulls back much as one would after touching a piece of metal and getting that static discharge on a winter day when heating appliances put a mild charge in the air. "Elle. I'm shocked," Jane deadpans. "But it's true. A lot of Ivy Leaguers are nose in the air bluebloods. I'm blueblood, but my nose isn't in the air." And she drifts into thought for a moment. "I wonder if one or both my parents have abilities I don't know about. I certainly haven't told them about mine, and don't plan to."

Elle groans. "Oh, that was a bad pun." She considers. "It would be likely. There's a genetic pattern to it from everything we've seen." And she's in a better position than most to know. "Not necessarily a related ability, but the presence of an ability."

A nod. And some pondering happens, punctuated by a laugh. "Dad's would have to be Harvardite divination. I swear he can spot people who went there a mile away. And Mom… something to do with DAR event planning. It's as if she could make cards for all the people to attend a society function and toss them in the air, they'll all land arranged into a perfect seating chart."

Elle grins a little. "Hey, you never know. I make electricity and my dad turns things to gold. Not exactly a lot of crossover there." An amused quip. "Good to have things settled down for a change. It's been a few weeks of weirdness."

"It has," Jane answers, her face spreading into a grin. "Say, speaking of gold, what did you do with those pants, Elle?"

Elle laughs. "Turned them in at financing. The Company's used to selling off gold whatsits. Dad is sort of our own private Gold Reserve. It's one of the reasons I never really worry about money."

"I had this mental picture of you in a lab somewhere running current into a furnace and melting them down to make bars for sale." Jane's eyes close, she leans her head against the back of the sofa. "Or pressing them into smaller objects."

Elle grins. "I'm sure a collector somewhere paid nicely for a pair of solid gold pants, especially ones that were skintight on me to start with." Elle has a nice butt and is rather proud of that fact.

Laughing, she states "I have to admit, I never in my life thought I'd ever be helping a guy get another woman out of her pants. That's just too priceless for words." Jane stands slowly, and aims herself toward the hall, wherein her bedroom door is found. "Time for me to crash. Try the infomercials, Elle," she suggests. "They may bore you back into normal sleeping patterns. Or some dry documentary."

She pads down that hall, soon there's the faint sound of her bedroom door being opened, but not closing. Within two minutes, Jane is back in the main room. In her hand is a thick college text. She offers it to the blonde. "Try this, actually. I got it my first year of law school, and I swear just looking at the thing made me feel like nodding off." It's placed on a coffee table, and out she goes again. Off to bed.